


Sizzling Like a Snare

by sporkmetender



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 09:24:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7216816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sporkmetender/pseuds/sporkmetender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You planned this whole trip to make me take a break,” she says. “I know it wasn’t on your calendar a month ago.” </p><p>Cat averts her eyes, but the damage is done. She is soft, trembling, doomed. Her lip wobbles, and her thighs quiver and clench. “Yes,” she says quietly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sizzling Like a Snare

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to fictorium and Cyn for the wonderful beta work and the reassurance that I got the voices right in my first Supergirl fic. This is at least 200% better because of you.
> 
> Title shamelessly stolen from Lana Del Rey, whose music (very, very loosely) inspired this story.

The afternoon oozes past, one endless, sticky minute after another. The sun blazes indolently overhead, and the morning’s breeze has long since disappeared.

Cat feels a drop of sweat slip down her neck and settle at the small of her back. Her damp skirt binds unpleasantly around her thighs, and her statement necklace is impossibly heavy against her sweaty chest. The foliage is poison green, unmoving in the bright stillness. She is snared in a sticky-sweet haze of rum and heat and frustration. Cat shifts uncomfortably, pushing her sunglasses further up as the sun peeks in under the umbrella.

She considers taking a third cold shower. Decides against it. Huffs weakly at her own indecision, at her empty glass, at her sense of creeping doom.

A shout of laughter and a splash break the stillness. She looks up, wary, and her shoulders twitch. Her brief respite is over.

They swim and frolic in the water for almost an hour. Cat chose this lounger because it is farthest from the pool, but Kara’s raucous laugh is hard to miss from any distance. Carter is laughing too, darting gleefully away from Kara, who is pretending to be some sort of water-zombie if her terrible sound effects are any indication. Cat closes her eyes against the sight of them together, determined to maintain some sort of boundaries, no matter what her body (and her heart) might want.

Her eyes snap open a few minutes later when she hears an especially big splash and a shout.

Kara, who is literally the fastest being on the planet, is shaking her fist dramatically at Carter for “eluding” her again. Cat closes her eyes again and turns away, refusing to acknowledge her inappropriate longing to see them like this all the time—the two people she loves most, happy and carefree.

Carter climbs out first, dark curls plastered across his forehead, skin a little pink, beaming at his favorite playmate.

Kara follows him up the ladder, biceps flexing as she pulls herself up, flips wet hair down her back, smiles over at him. Cat swallows harshly and stares at her son, forcing herself to check him for signs of sunburn.

Her hands jerk and sway under the weight of her desire to look elsewhere. She clasps them tight in her lap, fingers sliding and clutching uselessly.

Her traitorous eyes slip for a moment—just a moment. They burn and burn. She keeps looking.

Kara gleams golden under the sun’s glare. Her swimsuit, though modestly cut, does nothing to hide the shifting of muscle as she reaches for a towel, dries her hair, pokes playfully at Carter’s stomach.

Longing thrills down Cat’s sweaty back, constricts her throat, and stabs at her straining lungs. Her hands gradually fall still. She swallows and swallows, and she still can’t swallow it down. The longing swells larger and larger—stealing her breath, tingling in her fingertips, ringing in her ears, prickling in her eyes. Her tongue is swollen and limp in her mouth, her lips unbearably dry. She licks them clumsily, unsubtly, and curses silently when she sees Kara’s head snap up.

Is she imagining the sudden fierceness in Kara’s eyes? No, no, the heat must be getting to her. Cat shakes her head weakly, brain still swimming with visions of water flooding down Kara’s thighs as she surged out of the pool.

She refocuses on Carter, fussing over his nascent sunburn—not quite ignoring Kara, but close.

When she gets up to head into their villa, the skin of her legs parts from the plastic lounger with a reluctant squelch. Cat winces and staggers slightly, dizzy from embarrassment, from too much rum, from the depth of her desire to press her former assistant against the nearest wall and lick every drop of moisture from her skin.

She brushes off Kara’s steadying hand and stalks off to their villa, stomach churning with guilt.

Cat retreats to the bathroom immediately, splashing herself with cool water and castigating herself for almost ruining everything. She refuses to destroy months and months of masterful self-control with one afternoon of tipsy ogling. Her skin still feels hot no matter how long she leaves the cool washcloth on the back of her neck, but she can’t hide in here forever. After three more minutes she finally admits, at least to herself, that the heat is at least as much mental as it is physical.

Giving up on cooling down, she reluctantly leaves the safety of the bathroom to call in their dinner order. Kara’s stomach waits for no one.

Carter is her saving grace while they eat dinner and Cat sobers up (and carefully avoids Kara’s questioning gaze).

Kara and Carter joke around with each other over a few games of Settlers of Catan, and Cat treads her usual tightrope, enjoying herself just enough to please Carter, but not enough to make Kara suspicious—or so she hopes. The lingering heat of the afternoon gradually subsides into the usual ache of being simultaneously close to Kara and worlds away.

Although Carter is an excellent buffer (and distraction for Kara, who is sometimes disconcertingly perceptive), he is still a thirteen-year-old boy with a bedtime. He shuffles off to bed, stifling a yawn, after their third round of Catan.

Kara is puttering around in the kitchenette, tidying the day’s mess, but when Cat gets up to make her own exit, Kara is suddenly blocking her path.

She is standing squarely in front of the door to Cat’s suite, and Cat is definitely not imagining the fierceness in her eyes this time.

“Tell me,” she says, and Cat suppresses a flinch at the note of accusation, “why am I here?”

Cat swallows and forces herself not to look away. It’s not the confrontation she was expecting, but it has just as much potential to destroy her. “You’re here to assist me, Kiera, since none of the replacements you’ve found me have been up to the task.”

“That’s not my name, _Cat_.” She can’t stop the flinch this time, not when Kara almost spits her name. “And this is not a work trip anymore. The conference ended three days ago, and I’m still here with you in your vacation villa, swimming with your son, eating dinner with you, playing board games.”

Kara’s shoulders are high and tense, her arms folded, her face stern and closed. She is every inch Supergirl right now, regardless of her shorts and tank top, and Cat feels unexpectedly small and exposed before her. She’s never felt their height difference so keenly, and she longs for the heels she packed away after the end of the conference.

“I suppose,” Cat says, staring at a point just above Kara’s left shoulder, “that I thought you deserved a break. After…Myriad. After the disaster with James Olsen.” She feels her hands stirring nervously and forces herself to turn the motion into a casual swipe over the waistband of her skirt.

Kara stares at her, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “You couldn’t have just given me a week off?”

“That would give Kara Danvers a vacation, but you can’t tell me it would give Supergirl any time off.”

Kara’s stare throbs and burns on Cat’s skin as she takes in the awkward posture, the nervousness, the avoidance of eye contact, the uncharacteristic _everything_ that Cat knows she is displaying.

Kara’s eyebrows slowly unknit, and her arms drop to her sides, something fragile peeking out of her expression. “You planned this whole trip to make me take a break,” she says; her voice is soft, but this accusation is so much worse for being completely true. “I know it wasn’t on your calendar a month ago.”

Kara finally manages to catch her eyes, and oh, if she felt exposed before, she feels absolutely naked now—naked and yearning under that sweet, piercing gaze.

Cat averts her eyes, but the damage is done. She is soft, trembling, doomed. Her lip wobbles, and her thighs quiver and clench. “Yes,” she says quietly.

“Cat,” Kara whispers, and Cat looks up in time to catch a glimpse of a gentle smile before she is wrapped in an embrace so tight she can barely breathe. It’s the sweetest, most desirable doom she can imagine. She clutches Kara back, trying to memorize every sensation.

“Cat,” Kara says again, and her lips brush Cat’s ear. Cat shudders, defenseless against even that gentle touch. She wants to shrink away, wants to lash out, wants to hold on and never let go. Her hands flutter indecisively against Kara’s shoulders.

“Cat,” Kara breathes reverently, “my wonderful Cat, always taking care of me.” Cat looks up, because _what?_

Kara pulls back until they can look into each other’s eyes, and this time Cat does not look away. She swallows loudly, fingers twisting at the straps of Kara’s tank top, heart pounding fast and unsteady, and she lets Kara see the months of longing, the tenderness she’s been trying so hard to hide.

Kara reaches up to brush Cat’s slightly damp hair out of her face, and Cat moves into the touch, eyes slipping almost shut as she basks in Kara’s regard, in her scent, in the delicate brush of her fingertips.

“You’re so beautiful, Cat. I really want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?” Cat licks her lips and struggles to form words, but Kara is already barreling nervously on. “Or we don’t have to, I mean, we…I could just—”

Kara’s hold on her is loosening. She’s backing away. She looks panicked and awkward, like she’s about to adjust her glasses and apologize for even existing, and Cat is suddenly flushed with determination that they are not going to miss their chance—this opportunity that Kara surprised Cat into after days and weeks and months of Cat hiding everything away.

Cat lunges gracelessly up at her, hands pressing and pulling on Kara’s cheeks in a way that’s more desperate than romantic. Cat thinks she may have accidentally kicked Kara in the shin, and she knows this is a terrible idea, but it doesn’t matter because Kara tastes like sunshine and they are finally, _finally_ kissing.

Kara gasps into her mouth, eyes huge, fingers flailing and clenching as she struggles to catch up. Cat is almost hanging off her, pressed as close as she can get, and Kara isn’t touching her—why isn’t she touching her? Are they moving too fast? Did she not mean…does she not want—?

Cat starts to relax her grip, to back up, to have another go at forcing words out from between her tingling lips, but then there’s a blur of motion—a whirling, dizzy sensation, a hand behind her head, and a solid thump from Cat’s back hitting the wall.

Kara’s eyes are blazing hot now, fierce and bright. There is not an inch of space between their bodies, and Cat can feel Kara’s chest heaving against her own, Kara’s arms wrapped around her, a strong thigh trapping her firmly in place. Then they are kissing again, and all is deliciously right with the world.

She can’t believe how good this feels. Just kissing, pressed against a wall, with Kara’s warm hands roving almost desperately over Cat’s thighs, her sides, her hair, her neck, like she can’t believe it either. Like she’ll explode if she doesn’t touch all of Cat at once. Cat’s skirt is wrinkled and shoved up almost to her waist, and she knows she probably looks a mess, but _it’s finally happening_. 

The heat from this afternoon comes roaring back hotter than ever, and Cat melts into Kara’s touch in a way she’s never done before.

She didn’t know she was capable of being this pliable, but she is soft and wet and aching, arms draped over Kara’s shoulders, head lolled back—ready to accept whatever Kara will give her. She hears herself whimper when Kara plants a line of obscenely wet kisses up her neck to her ear, and she thanks her lucky stars that Carter’s room is on the other side of the villa, but she can’t bring herself to be embarrassed when Kara makes a half-hungry, half-inquisitive noise and does it again—harder.

Kara’s hands have slowed their frenetic exploration now. One hand is cradling Cat’s ass, pressing their pelvises together tight enough that Cat feels a dangerous swooping sensation at the slickness on her upper thigh. Kara is grinding against her— _Kara is grinding against her_ —slowly but firmly rubbing herself against Cat’s thigh, and Cat’s only complaint is that she wants more.

Cat wants everything, all at once, in a way that should be familiar—isn’t that the story of her life?—but it’s never been like this. This hunger has always been for the next story, the next promotion, the next undiscovered talent, the next acquisition. Never for another person, and certainly never for a gorgeous woman half her age who is also an alien superhero.

Kara’s other hand is inching up Cat’s ribcage with a very clear destination in mind, slowly pushing under her shirt, skirting along the bottom of her bra, trailing across her damp skin so gently Cat could scream. Cat is throbbing against Kara’s thigh, can feel how slick she is—there’s barely even any friction from her underwear, but she’s so swollen that even that whisper of friction is glorious and tantalizing. It’s almost too much but it’s also not nearly enough, and she can’t wait any longer.

“Kara,” she says, and her voice comes out husky and raw. Kara shudders against her, and Cat shudders back at the additional pressure where she’s already so desperate for it. Cat licks her lips, clutches Kara’s shoulders, and tries again. “Kara, take me to bed.”

Kara pulls back a little, looks at Cat’s face like’s she’s weighing options, but before Cat can panic again, she’s being wrapped more securely in Kara’s arms and then they’re floating through the doorway to the master suite.

Kara doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t need to. Her eyes are dark with a hundred silent promises as she closes the door behind them.

Cat slips her hands under Kara’s shirt, taking advantage of Kara’s focus on getting them to the bed to finally explore that beautiful body.

Cat knows, even as she goes straight for Kara’s breasts, that she should slow down, give Kara some time to get used to this. Maybe Kara hasn’t been waiting for this, hasn’t been wanting (fantasizing about) this, as long as Cat has. Maybe she’s just now realizing her attraction. Maybe they should talk about it. But then they land on Cat’s bed, and Kara’s full weight is pressing down right where she wants it, and Cat is so surprised she accidentally pinches Kara’s nipple harder than she means to.

Kara gasps and lurches into her, suddenly fierce and desperate again, and Cat decides that they can talk later. Much later, when Kara is not doing her best to take both of their clothes off at the same time and Cat is not rocking shamelessly against Kara’s thigh and moaning distractingly in Kara’s ear every time Kara goes for a button or a zipper. Kara finally pants a quiet curse (Cat should not find that as thrilling as she does) and just rips Cat’s skirt right off her.

Her blouse meets the same fate, and Cat is just thankful that she wore a front-clasp bra, or she’s sure that would have been sacrificed to the sex gods as well. They will have to have a talk about Kara’s destructive tendencies if this is going to happen again (and Cat already knows that once won’t be nearly enough). But for now she just moans wordlessly as Kara presses a flurry of kisses to Cat’s chest and belly.

The ceiling fan is keeping the room just on this side of bearable, but Cat is still vaguely sweaty from the heat of the day. She hasn’t done any trimming in weeks, and she knows her makeup is mostly worn away by now. If Cat Grant were ever going to be self-conscious, now would be the time. But she has a rule against that, and Kara’s inarticulate noise of desire when she buries her nose in Cat’s underwear and inhales means it would probably be a waste of time anyway.

She can feel Kara’s whole body trembling against her as she grabs the waistband of Cat’s thong and looks up, clearly asking permission. “Yes,” Cat says, lifting her hips more than is really necessary. Kara is already whipping the underwear down her legs but now that the words have started coming, they just keep tumbling out of her mouth. “Off, yes, please, take them off” and oh, it’s been a long time since she’s said please. She’s shocked to find that she means it—and so is Kara, judging by the poleaxed expression on her face.

“ _Cat_ ,” she says, and it comes out in a low, choked groan before Kara’s mouth descends on Cat with all the finesse of a bull in a china shop.

It should be off-putting. Cat should recoil from the suddenness and clumsiness of her touch, but instead her hips rock upward into it and even more ridiculous words spill out without her permission.

“God yes,” this strange new version of Cat says, “right there. Right—” And then she jackknifes off the bed because Kara’s tongue is inside her, and it feels amazing.

One of Kara’s hands slips up to her stomach and presses her gently but implacably flat on the bed. Cat’s hips still want to lurch closer to that superhuman tongue, but Kara is keeping her in place with barely any pressure at all. Cat can’t stop thinking about the immense strength that is currently bent to the sole purpose of fucking Cat Grant. She presses her lips shut to prevent any more foolish babbling, but she can’t stop a little whine at the feel of Kara’s fingers digging into her hip.

Cat finally manages to prop her shoulders up a little on the pillow and forces herself to open her eyes, because she is already embarrassingly close to coming, and she doesn’t want to miss a moment of this incredible vision—of Kara’s face glistening wetly between her legs, Kara’s eyes half-closed in concentration, her arms and shoulders flexing gently as she holds Cat exactly where she wants her.

Cat lets out a shriek as Kara moves up to suck on her clit, and she is too close already, wants to ask Kara to slow down, to make it last but it’s too late too late too late. She is coming helplessly, hopelessly, fast and hard. Her hands flutter wildly above the sheets, groping for anything to keep her grounded, keep the _don’t stop,_ the _I love you_ , the _please don’t leave me_ from slipping past her clenched teeth.

Kara’s lips are still moving, still wracking her over-sensitive body with sensation, and Cat wants to tell her to stop, wants to catch her breath, wants to get a better grip on all the secrets waiting to slip off her tongue. But just when she opens her mouth, ready to take a chance on what might come out because it’s too much, too strong—Kara looks up at her and hums.

Cat’s jaw clamps shut again, but she struggles to keep her eyes open because Kara is looking at her. Her eyes are almost feverishly bright, and her hands are creeping up Cat’s stomach. She grips Cat’s nipples, rolls them gently, and that little bit of extra sensation is what makes her relax into Kara's touch again.

Cat finally lets her hands drop to clutch at the rumpled sheets, lets her jaw hang slack, lets the dammed-up groan well up from her chest, and gives in. How did she ever think she could deny Kara? Who could deny this woman—this lovely woman who asks for things so rarely—whatever she wanted?

Kara seems to sense Cat’s acquiescence. She smiles sweetly around Cat’s clit (Cat’s lungs seize at the sight) and soothes her hands up and down Cat’s quaking torso.

The first orgasm was sudden, wrenching. This one is advancing on her slowly but inexorably. It vibrates hotly inside Cat, growing bigger and bigger. It prickles across her skin, tightening her nipples and curving her spine. It is too much feeling for her body to contain, but Kara’s eyes are begging her to let it keep growing, to hold on for as long as she can, and Cat is determined to give Kara what she wants.

The slight weight of Kara’s hands on her chest is forcing more and more desperate sounds out of her lungs. She knows she’s moaning too loudly, can feel the heat rising and rising, but Kara’s eyes are still asking for more, and Cat is going to give it to her. Cat is going to give her everything.

One of Kara’s hands slips down between Cat’s legs and then there are fingers pushing inside her and the orgasm takes over at last. It ripples up and down her body, scorching away any remaining hint of regret, any thought of holding back. She throws her head back, lets her eyes close, and gasps out Kara’s name like a benediction.

This time, mercifully, Kara lifts her head from between Cat’s legs.

When Cat is able to make her eyes focus again, she looks up to see Kara kneeling on the bed, still wearing all her clothes, licking her fingers with obvious pleasure.

Cat tries to get her attention, but her throat is so dry that Kara’s name comes out as a croak. Kara looks up at her, face still wet, hair in complete disarray, and smiles the most luminous smile Cat has ever seen in her life.

Some last bastion of reserve in Cat’s chest suddenly melts away and she starts laughing and sobbing all at once. She gestures vaguely, desperately, but Kara must understand because she immediately scoops Cat into her arms and starts stroking her hair and crooning into Cat’s ear.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” she says. “I’ve got you, sweetheart, it’s all right.”

She kisses Cat’s forehead and holds her close, and it feels like home, but it’s the “sweetheart” that finally lets Cat breathe again past the storm of emotions that’s constricting her lungs.

By the time the tears have stopped, Cat is limp and exhausted, draped across Kara’s lap like a life-sized doll. Her head weighs about fifty pounds, and she gives up on lifting it. Instead, she reaches up to run a tentative hand through Kara’s hair. Kara looks down at her and smiles that beautiful smile again, and Cat feels her lips edging up into a tiny smile of their own before her eyes slip shut.

 

* * *

 

Cat wakes early the next morning. It’s still cool in the bedroom, and the sun is just peeking through the gauzy curtains. Kara’s arm is wrapped protectively around her waist, and their legs are tangled together.

Cat feels that same incredulous smile pulling at her mouth and lets it happen. She looks down at Kara, sleeping peacefully in her rumpled shorts and tank top, and she smiles and smiles.

Cat checks her phone, sees that today is predicted to be even hotter than yesterday, and goes back to sleep, still smiling.

 

* * *

 

When Cat next wakes up, it is 9:30. Kara is already awake and tracing abstract designs on Cat’s back. Cat turns over and catches Kara looking at her with the sappiest expression imaginable.

 _I love you please don’t leave me_ starts up again in the back of her head, and she doesn’t think that’s the look of a woman who plans to leave her, but in spite of Kara’s best efforts, hope is still not Cat’s first instinct. _I love you I love you I love you_ , she thinks. Cat bites her lip.

“I love you,” she hears, and Cat is thinking it so loudly that it takes her a moment to realize that it was Kara who said it.

“What?” Cat says, like a cynic, like an idiot, because has she really missed the signs of Kara loving her back? Kara, the most obvious, guileless being in the Milky Way. Kara, who owns a closetful of cardigans just so she always has two extra sleeves to wear her enormous heart on.

“I love you,” Kara says again, a little more tentatively, and apparently the answer is yes, Cat _has_ missed the signs.

“I love you too,” Cat says, and it feels so good to let it finally come out. She smiles dopily at Kara, and she knows she must look silly, but she doesn’t care. Her heart is thumping pleasantly in her chest, and she suddenly needs to touch Kara, to establish a physical connection again. She scoots closer and drapes her arm over Kara’s hip.

Kara hugs her back, and they stay like that for long minutes, just basking in this delightfully mutual snuggling that they’re doing. Cat slips her hand under Kara’s top and lets her fingertips glide gently across the small of Kara’s back.

Kara shivers under her touch, and Cat’s smile deepens, sharpens.

“I believe I still owe you something,” she murmurs. “Two somethings, to be exact.” Kara shivers again and swallows loudly.

That familiar thrill of power settles between Cat’s legs. She leans in, ever so slowly, and kisses Kara just below her ear. “We have a lot of lost time to make up for,” she whispers. Kara nods a little too eagerly, and Cat smiles and smiles and smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Supergirl story, and a bit of a departure for me, stylistically. I'd love to know what you thought.
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://sporkmetender.tumblr.com/) if you like--I'm always happy to talk about fic, or headcanons, or Kara's arms...


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